Wickedly foolish
by xxshadesofRed
Summary: Sasuke thought she was a troubled sweetheart, Gaara knew she was a psychotic bitch. Sakura was both, although, she might be more than a little cruel—SasuSakuGaa, dark fic. Au.


**A/N:** I will give you a friendly warning. This, this is a dark one. Something I have wanted to do for quite some time but have not gotten the chance to do so, until few weeks ago. I have a serious problem with completing my stories because I have a bunch of ideas in my mind popping up here and there, it is a little difficult for me to get my ass on the chair and write it down. Don't worry though, I will definitely force myself to write (I have my lazy days... weeks... possibly _months). _Anyway, do enjoy yourselves, even though it might seem a little rushed. Your thoughts? Do let me know.

Edited by the lovely Sionna Dehr.

* * *

Chapter one:

_Instability_

Tap—tap—t-tap.

Green fingernails drummed anxiously against the plastic table, perfectly in sync with the ticking clock. She scanned around the enclosed room for the umpteenth time, attempting to find something she hope she missed earlier. The blue plastic chair that she was seated on was glued onto the checkered floor, the kind that reminded her of the ones used in primary schools. It was impossible to move the chair—she had tried it a couple of times when she was in a state of panic few hours ago, woken up in this strange cramped room with tall white walls and no windows or doors visible, and no other source of light except for a lamp that was placed on the edge of the table. On the table, other than the lamp, there were three things that were given to her.

A wooden pencil, a yellow sticky pad, and a shiny silver revolver.

She shifted her gaze towards the ticking clock. Scribbles of time were written on the yellow paper, sticking onto the table neatly right after the another—sixty seconds, sixty-five seconds, hundred and twenty seconds. When the second hand struck twelve, she wrote it down quickly, sticking it onto the table. She had been doing this for the past three hours, counting seconds and adding them up to know how long she has been in this place. Even though the second hand was working, the hour and minute hands were not. It was two forty-five when she woke up; it was two forty-five when she went berserk. What seemed like hours later, it was still two forty-five when she started to play with the gun.

She looked at the yellow papers, from the newest one she had previously written to the oldest, a confused frown on her face as she read the note once again.

**2:45 = death of parents (?)**

Thinking about it, she couldn't remember anything except for the time of her parents' deaths. No matter how hard or long she tried to recall back her previous memories, her mind was completely blank. She doesn't know what her name was or what she looked like, all she could do at the moment was to observe the things she could see and make conclusions from it. She must have liked the color green a lot—for fact that her both her toenails and fingernails were painted pastel green, and she must have been an odd kid since her hair was light pink. It was styled in a long bob that ends at her collarbones.

She continued tapping her fingers repetitively, creating a slow rhythm—one, two, three, one, two, three, inwardly calculating the hours. She was given basic school supplies and a weapon with two bullets, and was trapped in this room for six hours and thirty-seven minutes. She eyed the gun, hesitantly reaching out for it, weighing it on her palm. Despite herself, she smirked lazily, finding it funny at how something so small could be so deadly. She narrowed her eyes at the little thing, memories of the event that happened earlier replayed in her mind. Even though she was already in a strange situation, it was weird how she couldn't really feel the strong urge to get out of this place.

Earlier today, she was screaming and wailing for help, but her screams echoed around the room and that was she knew she was truly alone. How did ended up in this place? The bigger question was: How could she not feel the need to rehydrate herself after all that screaming that made her throat ache? Her thoughts were jumbled then, endless possibilities of what might have actually happened swirled around her mind.

She eyed the gun again, twirling it around her finger.

She frowned.

What if—really, what are the odds? She doesn't know who she was—she couldn't remember anything but her parents' time of death, places she might have or might have not been to. She couldn't remember the life she had lived. It wouldn't be so bad, after all.

Cocking the hammer, she positioned the gun, pointing it on her forehead.

"What happens when I shoot?"

Her voice was raspy.

_You'll wake up, silly girl._

She pulled the trigger.

.

.

.

"Good morning, Dr Shizune."

Taking off her coat, she hanged it loosely around her arm. The black-haired woman nodded at the receptionist, a kind smile on her lips.

"Good morning, Nonoko. Early shift again, I see? He must be a lucky, lucky guy."

Nonoko blushed bashfully to only deny it strongly afterwards—_'No, that is not why Dr Shizune, p-p-please stop teasing me!'_ even though her stuttering was a dead giveaway. Shizune smiled teasingly, chuckling slightly at the younger woman's silliness. Shuzine watched as Nonoko tried to flush out the embarrassment and compose herself, though, the black haired woman could still see the tint of pink on her cheeks. He must really be a lucky guy, she thought to herself, to have won the heart of this lovely lady.

"Here is the list of the patients you will be seeing today, Dr. Kuze called in earlier today to inform us that he will not be able to attend today's session. I changed his appointments to next Tuesday."

Shizune nodded in acknowledgement and took the file and skimmed through the names, secretly hoping that the batch she'll be seeing later wouldn't give her too much trouble. She was far from inexperienced, Shizune was offered a higher position in the hospital, but she was more than content with her current place. She does love her job and she loves helping people more than anything, but sometimes, patients she was assigned to were too difficult to handle. Yesterday's batch was the ones with extreme cases, a group therapy session that she had to cover for Dr Tsunade, since the older blonde was away.

It was not unusual for her to be the only one who was allowed to cover for Dr Tsunade, she was after all, trained by the amazing woman herself and she took pride in this fact. She knew it wasn't an easy one, given that Dr Tsunade's patients were a little aggressive— usually patients that were forced to stay in this mental facility. She supposed she used the word 'little' a little loosely, since she barely escaped safely yesterday.

"Oh, Dr Tsunade arrived this morning to drop Sakura off. She told me to give this to you," she said, handing the note to the older woman, "Since you have not arrived yet, I told her to wait for you at the waiting room."

A confused frown was visible on her face as she unfolds the paper.

**30 minutes**

The corners of her lips twitched upwards into a strained half-smile. She sighed, making a mental note to confront her mentor about this matter later. She looked up to Nonoko, managing another smile, and replied a 'Thank you,' before walking towards her awaiting patient. She took out her card and tapped it at the censor, and pushed the metal doors open, her three-inch heels clacking against the hard floor. She smiled at the other staffs, greeting them politely like she always does, and made a quick turn to the left, walking down the hall and right into the waiting area. Like the receptionist promised, there was Sakura, sitting on one of the benches, reading a book with headphones on.

It seemed the girl noticed her arrival, because right then, she looked up with the brightest smile she had ever seen from Sakura.

_'For the love of God_,' she pleaded to herself, _'not another one.'_

.

.

.

Sakura decided to stare at the hideous drawings that were pinned up on the walls. Probably from children, she thought, examining the stick figures that were labeled 'Mommy' and 'Daddy', with a poorly drawn house in between them. A sun with a smiley face was on top of the mother-father figures, and the child who she assumed to be the drawer, was lying on the grass.

Fifteen minutes has passed by without her answering to any of the questions, and she supposed Shizune had enough with her silence because she heard a sigh and she shift her gaze to the older woman in front of her, staring blankly into her black eyes. They stayed like that, staring at each other for another five minutes, and Sakura inwardly smirked at the frustration that Shizune was trying to suppress. Usually she will utter a word at the last few minutes of their sessions, because she knew that Shizune would be reporting her behavior to her foster mother, who will be repeating the same questions as the lady in front of her.

It gives her satisfaction to make Shizune feel inadequate and incompetent. Sakura knew how much she hated to be compared to her mother, and sometimes she questioned Shizune's capability. For example, she more, than anyone, should know that Tsunade has been training her, she should have known about her amazing progress—not that she was bragging, but really, she accomplished so many things that she should be proud of at the age of eighteen. It was a huge insult to her that Shizune was using simple psychological skills to get information out of her. Her mother will be asking the same questions later, yes, but her tactics were far more superior.

So it was a wonder really, to why her mother allowed this woman to make her feel somewhat 'better' and less 'stressed', when both of them knew that was not the case.

Five minutes left.

She supposed she should pardon the woman for her poor skills, she thought in a rare moment of generosity. Sakura decided to observe her surroundings, staring at everything and anything that might have caught her eye, distracting herself. Two more minutes, she repeated to herself, ending the urge to shake her legs anxiously. Patience never came easily for her. It took her a few years to master the poker face, to be in control and manipulate her body language. Even after all of that being in this room still made her feel restless.

The alarm went off.

Sakura smiled and stood up, a messenger bag over her shoulder.

"Well," she said finally, clasping her fingers together, "this was eventful. I wish I could stay longer, but I have school to attend. One word: dreams."

She saw the twitch in Shizune's brows and allowed herself to grin. Before the woman in front of her could utter a word, Sakura rushed out of the room, her eyes shining with glee. She continued walking down the hallway, ignoring the stares of other patients and staffs. Naturally, she would want to pass under the radar in most circumstances, but it was terribly hard for her to do so, due to her bright, shocking hair.

_Fucking genetic mutation_, she cursed under her breath, smoothing out her pink hair. Walking as quickly as possible, she got out of the facility and head towards the parking lot. She stuck a hand into her bag, frantic fingers rummaging for a packet of cigarettes. She took out a stick, sticking it in between pursed lips and lit it up, greedily inhaling the smoke, trapping it in her lungs. She got into her car and shove the keys into the ignition, starting the engine. She cranked down the window, not wanting the smell of smoke to linger in the car as her habit was a one of her many secrets. She stomps onto the pedal and drove to the main road.

.

.

.

Presenting an excuse note to her homeroom teacher, Sakura smiled innocently. With his face in one of his favorite porn books, Kakashi took the note from her and waved a hand, instructing her to take a seat. Sakura giggled to herself at this, muttering a _'Always a pervert, Mr Kakashi_,' and turned around, smiling and nodding to her bunch of friends sitting at the back of the class. It wasn't necessary to pass him an excuse note, or any note for the matter as it was rare that Kakashi would take down their attendance. He was one the few teachers that Sakura adored.

"Sakura!"

She grinned, exclaiming a friendly hello to the cheeky blonde boy with whiskers on his face. She ruffled his spikes, laughing slightly when the boy protested in mock annoyance. She sat at her usual place, a seat behind Naruto and beside the dark, brooding Sasuke. She felt Sasuke's fingers on hers, intertwining their fingers together. She leaned over and pressed her lips on his cheek, and whispered a, _'Morning, Sasuke_.' She hid her amusement when she saw the tip of his ears went red.

With her hand still in his, she watched as her friends interacted with each other—Ino was absorbed in a conversation with Karin, gossiping about celebrities and their favorite colors of the week. Sakura eavesdropped for a while and tuned them out afterwards, deciding not to listen to their pointless ramblings anymore. She cocked a pink eyebrow when she caught the ever sly Naruto reaching a hand towards Hinata's hair, running his fingers down her black locks, twirling few strands of her hair around his finger.

Sakura watched as Hinata looked around to see if anyone had noticed the gesture. Instead of looking away, she made eye contact with the black haired girl, a smirk still gracing her lips. The hidden message was clear: _I saw it_. Hinata shook her head and placed a finger in between her lips, pleading white eyes staring into her cold emerald ones. Humoring her, Sakura nodded, making a mental note to include this in her observation notebook.

The pink haired girl leaned on her chair, with a bored expression, picking out the imaginary dirt under her nails to distract herself further. She felt Sasuke squeezing her hand, and she returned the gesture, telling him that she was alright, even though it was an obvious lie. She couldn't explain the feeling, but she felt anxious lately. Perhaps it was the predictability of her mundane life that made her feel like this, perhaps it was the lack of excitement—she felt the urge to do something rash and drastic, she felt like doing it right now. However, she stopped herself, clenching her itchy fingers into a tight fist.

_'Be patient.'_

"Forehead… Hello?"

A hand was waving in front of her face then, and Sakura snapped out of her thoughts, a tint of pink on her cheeks from being caught dazing away.

"Yes, yes, I am here. What is it?"

"Jeez, untwist your panties babers," Ino grumbled, narrowing her pretty blue eyes, "Anyway, we wanted to tell you that we made friends with this new guy and he's sitting with us for lunch later."

Sakura raised a brow, curiosity filled her eyes.

"Oh yeah? Who?"

Ino shrugged, leaning her face against her fist.

"Beats me, I didn't talk to him. He looked scary as hell. And before you ask, yes, it was Naruto," the blonde grinned, "With his Jesus-like complex, that boy can be friends with anybody."

Upon hearing his name, Naruto perked up and turned his chair around to face us. Ino filled him in, and Naruto nodded, his typical grin on his face.

"Oh yeah, the new guy. Red hair, green eyes, a tattoo on his forehead. He transferred here from Suna high. Weren't you from Suna high too, Sakura?"

She tensed.

"Uh, yeah," she managed finally, inwardly frowning to herself. Sasuke, noticing her discomfort, silently turned his head towards her with a raised eyebrow. Sakura shook her head and waved it off, not wanting Sasuke to pry any further. She stood up suddenly, surprising her friends and her other classmates, she mumbled 'bathroom' and stalked towards Kakashi, who gave her the restroom pass. She tugged on her messenger bag and exited the classroom, mentally scolding herself for being so uncharacteristically jumpy. She'll have quick smoke to calm her senses, and she'll be okay. She'll be okay, Sakura decided, once she has nicotine in her system.

She walked up towards the familiar stairs until she has reached her favorite place in school: the rooftop. She went to her secret place, cautious emerald eyes scanning around the area. When she confirmed that there was no one in sight, she took out a cigarette. Inhaling and exhaling, she leaned her back against the metal fence, closing her tired eyes to enjoy the moment of peace.

"You're still smoking, I see."

She stilled.

It was stored in her pocket of memories—Bless her soul, she _knew_ that voice. Sakura fluttered her eyelids open, taking in the sight before her. Naruto's description was right, red spikes, black rings that defined his jade eyes, and a tattoo on his forehead. She sucked in the smoke, and exhaled it out, a finger tapping onto the cigarette. She dared herself to look at him in the eye, furious jade orbs staring hatefully back at her. He still looked the same as ever, always rough-looking and intimidating. She smirked. Nothing has changed after all.

"What the fuck are you smirking at, you _slut?_" he hissed, stepping towards her.

Despite her pathetic height, she stood tall and challenged him to come closer. To her amusement, he did. She knew she was playing with fire right this moment, but she was not one to get burned easily. Her smirk widened into an excited grin when she made her next move.

"You were always easy to anger," she teased mockingly, exhaling the smoke into his face, "Really Gaara, tone it down, will you?"

She didn't bat an eyelash when he banged his fist against metal fence right beside her face. She felt him leaning his forehead against her shoulder, taking in short breaths.

"You're fucking _sick_, Sakura."

One thing that will never change was the way he spoke her name, as if they meant something important and worthwhile. It sent chills down her spine and made her skin tingle in excitement. She felt it, the adrenaline rush pumping through her veins. The anxiety was gone for that slight moment, and Sakura couldn't stop herself from grinning.

"You were the one who followed me here."

A pair of arms snaked around her waist possessively, slyly slipping his hands under her top.

"How… Could I not? After all the shit you put me through," he snarled, pressing his lips on her shoulders, biting it roughly. Sakura knew what he was doing and found his actions unsurprising, Gaara has always been territorial. She endured the sweet pain and raised a hand, grabbing a handful of his red hair and yanked his head off her shoulder.

"Careful," she scowled, "I have a boyfriend. You're not allowed to mark me."

He threw her body against the metal fence.

Sakura knew he was angry despite his placid front. Time and experienced had taught her how to read him. Sakura was largely unfazed by his harsh treatment towards her. In fact, not only had she expected it, she welcomed it—she embraced it. She more than anyone, knew the game she was playing. It was nothing like testing the waters, nothing like a little child's first try on the swings, because she was playing with fire. It was her forte and her ecstasy. It was the fuel that burned away all her boredom she loved it.

Granted, she had to give the boy a little credit. He was the only one who saw through her façade after all, with his jade eyes boring into her eyes, the same very eyes that pierced her soul. Although, she supposed she was a little inexperienced back then. She will not allow another slip up, mistakes were not supposed to be made twice. She was different now, she told herself. She only allowed herself to reveal two faces to him, there were many more that was kept in her closet.

"Did you sleep with him?" he asked, after a short moment of silence.

Sakura scoffed and shook her head, throwing the cigarette on the ground and smashing it with her shoe. He closed the distance between them and smashed his lips furiously against hers, desperate to find something, anything. The younger woman smirked crudely, fingers on each of his cheeks, breaking away the kiss.

"Are you submitting?" She whispered breathlessly, pressing her forehead against his.

She couldn't stop herself from grinning when she saw his eyes hardening, when something mean curled his lips. Through his gritted teeth, he hissed.

"Fuck. _You_."

"Is that a promise?" She asked, pulling his hair once again.

Her eyes gleamed when he kissed her again, desperate fingers wandering all over her body, trying to feel everything. Thrilled that she got her answer, Sakura responded to his rough kiss. His submission made her weak in the knees. Sakura took in the pleasure in breaking this man before her, and if she played her cards well, she could do the same to Sasuke. Love was a funny thing, she thought suddenly. Love drove people to do things that they normally wouldn't. It was only natural that Sakura used this emotion to her advantage.

She felt the ever familiar adrenaline rush again, and she became extremely excited.

.

.

.

_Tbc_


End file.
